Habitat for Humanity

At Mercy, there is an option of participating in Habitat for Humanity over Spring Break during your senior year. I pretty much knew that I wanted to do that early on as a student at Mercy, and once I became more involved in Campus Ministry, I was definatley in.

Most girls were going on crazy spring break trips to Cancun or Florida. A group of us were headed to Beattyville, Kentucky to help out. Luckily for me, the group largely consisted of my best friends. We had a large group of friends. Half of us were doing Habitat together, the other half were going to Disney World. 

Participating in Habitat for Humanity was one of the coolest things I've done. On Easter morning in 2005, we hopped into two vans and drove down to Kentucky. The ride down was hilarious. Our friend Sarah read aloud passages from a cheesy romance novel, and we shared stories of boys and adventures we had been on. I remember my friend Liz downing Diet Coke like it was her job, which resulted in us having to practically carry her to the bathroom at the next rest stop because her bladder was so full she couldn't walk straight. 

Soon we arrived at our location. Beattyville was small. The "downtown" was literally one intersection  I still remember us trying to find food in that town the first night, but since it was Easter, everything was closed. The only open store was a gas station, so we filled our bellies with macaroni and cheese and pizza rolls. Our shelter for the week was this tiny little home lovingly nicknamed "habitat house".  It had a living room, a kitchen, and a few bedrooms. Us girls were all in one room with bunk beds. Yep. That means there were 9 teenage girls in one room. There was a youth group sharing the Habitat House with us, and only one working toilet and shower. Space was tight. . 

During the week, we worked on many different building projects. We helped to start the foundation of a new church being built, we painted an elderly woman's home, fixed up another home by replacing doors and helping rebuild the roof, cleaned and painted a trailer for a really sweet couple. We had so much fun building and painting  We had warm weather and we surprised ourselves, I think, with how hard we could work. And I know we were all sore, but we also felt good being able to give back to these people. 

I don't think I'll ever forget that trip or the people of Beattyville. One night the church hosted a dinner for us and we got to mingle with people. Everyone was so nice, life was simpler than it was in Detroit. On one of our days, Pastor Herman, who led our group throughout the week, took us to the Beattyville Museum and on a gorgeous hike to Natural Bridge. Pastor Herman was a sweet, sweet man and he really wanted us to get a lot out of the experience. He joked around with us and thanked us often for what we were doing. 

More than anything, though, I remember how hard we laughed through the week. We created some really great memories and bonded even more as friends. There was one night in particular I remember. We went "cruisin" just like the locals do and hit up the Dairy Queen, one of the only hang outs in town. We then drove to a place known as Happy Top, and as Pastor Herman told us, it was where "the lovers went". We laid there, as a group of friends, staring up at the stars and sharing our fears about college and leaving high school.

On the last night, we packed up our things and signed the wall-it's kind of a habitat tradition. Every group picks a spot on the wall and draws or writes something unique to their experience, and then everyone signs around it. I don't remember off the top of my head what we wrote, but I know I have a picture of it somewhere. The next morning we drove back to Michigan, after saying goodbye to Pastor Herman and to Beattyville.

When we returned, one of our chaperones for the trip sent us all cards in the mail thanking us for our service. On the card she wrote "never forget the people of Beattyville. Simple life, simple living. Happy life". I have carried that phrase with me, and when I get frustrated because my internet won't work or because my paycheck is lower than I'd like, I do remember the people of Beattyville, and how happy they were just to have running water.

I am so glad I decided to do Habitat. Its' something I am very proud of and a memory dear to my heart.

Here is a picture of the "Habitat Girls" at our Prom.

Grandpa Jack.

I have many memories of my Grandpa Jack. He was one of the coolest guys I knew. He was also one of the loudest.

Yes, something that sets my Grandpa apart from most people was his voice. You could hear it for miles. It was loud and booming. Most of us grandchildren (especially me) were terrified of him as babies and toddlers, because it was so loud. But it was also one of the things I loved most about him. It made nearly everything he said funnier. He always answered the phone with a booming "YELLO?" that made you break into a smile when you heard it. One time, we saw him and my grandma in Church. They did not regularly attend our church, they belonged to a different one. So my mom walked over and ask "what are you doing here?" to which Gramps responded "GOING TO CHURCH!" so loudly that I burst into giggles and hysterics.

Grandpa was the kind of guy that everyone knew and liked. He had a rough exterior, but deep down he was a sweet guy with a great sense of humor. He had many friends, and built a very strong leadership with his job at Ford. He cared about his kids and his grand kids, he always wanted to make sure we had fun. On one of our many trips to Florida, I was sitting in his condo and was kind of upset because one of my cousins was teasing me. My grandpa told me I didn't have to go back outside and that I could watch TV with him. He was watching Golf, which was the very last thing I wanted to watch, but I did anyways. 10 minutes in, he changed the channel to cartoons just to make me happy.

My grandpa loved golf. He played bridge, he liked to read and he was one of the smartest men I have ever known. He would help me with my math and science homework when I was in 8th grade, and I sure wish I had him around in high school for geometry. He could calculate things and figure out equations so easily. I have visions of him sitting at his kitchen table, whistling, and doing crossword puzzles. He used to fill them out with those big, black pencils that I'm pretty sure don't even exist anymore. Oh, and he also loved desert. After every big family meal he would put his fists down and say "what's for desert?". He usually wanted the richest item available.

He also LOVED Notre Dame- and that was carried down to the rest of us. One time my brother and I were having a sleepover at their condo and Grandpa wanted us watch a movie about Knute Rockne. My brother loved it and talked with my Grandpa through the whole thing. I was bored to tears, but remember watching their interaction and being so happy that they had that love in common. Grandpa's dream was always for one of his grandchildren to go attend Notre Dame. None of us have, yet. Connor, pressure is on you, kiddo!

Whenever we would sleepover at my grandparents house, we woke up to the smell of eggs and bacon. Gramps would cook the eggs in butter and bacon grease, so they were especially delicious. He'd whistle as he cooked and sit down with us as we ate, asking us questions about school and our grades. He always wanted us to do well in school, and he was proud when we should him our report cards.

I think what I loved most about my grandpa, though, was his love for my grandma. She was my favorite person in the entire world. She passed away very suddenly, and that broke Grandpa. He was always the strong one, but suddenly without her he was weak. That's when I really realized how much he loved her. When we were going through all of her stuff, which he made us do immediately  we found all these old cards and letters he had written her. My mom has some of them, and I love to look at them and see his handwriting and to feel the love he had for her. It's one of the most beautiful things I have ever touched.

My grandpa took a slow decline after grandma died, and soon he was very sick. We put him in an assisted living and would all go visit him and try to cheer him up. The aides and nurses loved him. How could you not? I remember when we put him on hospice. His social worker was especially helpful to my siblings, cousins, and myself. Gramps passed in August 2001. Right before the September 11th terrorist attacks. I was at field hockey camp when he died. I can't remember if I really got to say goodbye. I knew that there was a chance he would die while I was gone, but I don't think I was really prepared. I was only 14, and he was the last grandparent I had left. I remember standing on the field hockey field when I found out. My coach approached me and told me that she just got the phone call. My team surrounded me- they barely even knew me, but they were there for me. They brought me s'mores and let me cry. I don't really remember my grandpa's funeral. I think I have blocked it out. I just remember feeling an overall emptiness. Life would not be the same without him.

Last September, my grandpa would have turned 100 years old. My family celebrated him. We ate all his favorite foods- fried kidneys, fried green tomatoes, fried chicken, and pie. Yes, those were his favorite foods and no, he didn't die of heart attack or anything heart related. In fact, as he was dying, his heart was the last organ to shut down. Amazing, huh? After our meal, we sat around and each shared our favorite memory of Grandpa Jack. They were all funny. Like the time he accidentally sat on someone in a movie theater because it was dark and he couldn't see. Or the time he took some of his children to a wax museum and tried to pay the wax figurine that was greeting them at the entrance.

Gramps was an awesome guy, the kind of guy I wish everyone knew. I know that this post is already super long, but I have to admit something that I've never really said before- all through high school I was pretty bitter and jealous of all my friends. I was the only one amongst us who didn't have any grandparents left, and when one of them did have a grandparent pass, I had a hard time feeling sympathetic. I know that makes me sound like a horrible person, and it's something I struggle with and still pray about. I was just...jealous I guess. My grandparents never got to see me graduate high school or cheer me on in any of my high school activities. That always made me terribly sad. But now that I'm older and a little less selfish I know that they WERE with me in spirit. I sure hope I have made them proud. I know I've made mistakes, but I love my all four of my grandparents deeply and I want them to know how much I miss them and wish that I had more time with them.


I love you, Grandpa Jack, and I miss you. Thank you for all the happy memories you have given me.

The Five.

Towards the end of my junior year of high school, I decided to run for student council vice president for the next school year. I had held leadership positions in my class, and thought it would be cool to lead the entire school. I was up against some of the "popular" girls, and I wasn't too confident of my chances. But, I was also one of those people who was friends with everyone. And lo and behold, I made it past the primary election. They announced it in my 2nd hour English class, that it was between me and a girl named Lauren. Who, by the way, was also in my 2nd hour English class. Awkward.

I campaigned for a few weeks-posted flyers, handed out candy and bracelets.  I also had to make a speech. In front of the entire student body. I worked hard on that thing, trying to perfect my words and to be as genuine as possible. All I really wanted to do was make a difference at our school and to be a role model for the younger girls. After our speeches everyone went back to their homeroom to vote. I had never been more nervous for anything in my life.

I won. I won the freaking election. I was going to be Vice President of Student Council. I remember the cheers breaking out amongst my friends and all the hugs and high fives I got in the hallways. My parents took me out to dinner to celebrate that night, and when the waitress asked if it was a special occasion, my dad proudly said "yes, my daughter is vice president of the student council!".

And guess what else? For the first time, ever, there were five of us on student council. There was a dead tie for secretary position, so they let both of them claim it. So naturally, we began to call ourselves the five.

President- Jessica, better known at Mercy as "Smitty". Smitty knew everyone. She was friendly, goofy, and spirited.
Vice President- Me. I was in the "theatre" group, but also friends with many others. I was quiet in class but loud among my friends, not afraid to show my love for Mercy or for the people around me.
Secretaries- Kalin and Nicole. Kalin was one of those girls who was never afraid to stand up for herself or for what she believed in. She was gorgeous, popular, hilarious, and loud. Nicole was sweet and smart- kind, and fair.
Treasurer-Kelsey. Kelsey was also one of my best friends. She was the smartest girl I knew, athletic, genuine and kind.

Kalin, Nicole, and Kelsey were all juniors and Smitty and I were seniors. We took our roles in student council QUITE seriously- but we also laughed all the time.  Our dean of students, who was in charge of us and led our meetings, would often say we were one of the best groups. We made her laugh and she helped us to become better leaders. The five of us got along so well. We moved as a pack and we looked out for one another. We met frequently to discuss different events at the school and met for 15 minutes every 2nd hour to do the announcements for the school. Smitty's job was to speak, mine was to control the audio controls, and the other three gathered the announcements and birthdays. All of us sang "happy birthday" at the end, celebrating our classmates. In the even that Smitty was absent, I filled in speaking. Those moments always scared me a little, but I had the three other girls behind me, cheering me on. After announcements we would gather in a circle, arms around each other, and tell each other to have a good day. We had such different personalities, and were in different groups of friends, but it worked, and it worked beautifully. I had the time of my life with those girls.

On our very last day together, we cried. We did our circle tradition  this time holding tighter and we each went around and told everyone else what we admired about them. It was especially sad for Smitty and I, because we were graduating and had to leave it all behind.

I will always have a special place in my heart for those girls. Even though we do not keep in touch (I still keep up with Smitty and Kelsey occasionally , and haven't seen each other in years, they are very unique, lovely people who I adore and would do anything for if they asked.

I'm not sure if Mercy has ever had another five person student council. but the selfish side of me hopes that they haven't. I hope we were unique and rare. The Five.

Emily

My "E" post is going to force me to confess something.

I had an imaginary friend. And her name was Emily.

I kept her so secret that when I told my mom I was going to write a post about Emily, she had no idea what I was talking about. She never even realized I had an imaginary friend. See, I am the youngest in my family, and I knew that my brother and sister would make fun of me if they knew about Emily. So I just kept her a secret. I only talked to her in my room or if I was playing outside by myself. I mostly talked to her when I would ride my bike or walk over to my friend Amy's house. Amy lived around the block, and I went to her house nearly every day to play, so Emily and I got a lot of talking in then. I don't remember our conversations, but I do remember having her with me a lot. I was a very, very shy kid, but I liked talking to her because I didn't have to feel stupid if I said something wrong.

I also named one of my dolls Emily, and she was my favorite doll. She was the kind you could take in the bathtub and pool, so she was with me a lot. She had red curly hair like Orphan Annie. She's still sitting in the closet of my parents house, and one day if I have a daughter, she will inherit my sweet Emily doll.

I have a little bit of a theory about imaginary friends, and you can go ahead and call me crazy if you want to, but I really feel like they are not necessarily friends but more of guardian angels. Someone to talk to and tell your worries to. Maybe a direct line to God. Maybe all those times I was talking to Emily, I was actually praying, and I didn't even realize it. Again, just a theory, and maybe I'm totally wrong. Either way, I'm thankful to God for creating my imagination and giving me Emily.

There comes an age in everyone's life when you stop playing dolls and you forget about your imaginary friends. But Emily is still one of my favorite names. In fact, I recently started writing a fiction novel, and Emily is the name of the main character. There's got to be some kind of psychological reasoning for that.

So thank you, Emily, for being there for me and for listening to me. Even though you were imaginary, you were the best friend I had growing up, and I thank you for sending my worries and thoughts directly to God.

Bonus: Here's a song from Lady Antebellum titled Emily. I was stuck on "e" post and this song came on. I couldn't believe I hadn't thought of Emily before.

Did you have an imaginary friend?